


In the Lower Levels

by ranianke



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Has a Type, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, D/s Vibes, M/M, PWP, Pre-Obikin, Public Sex, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24690655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranianke/pseuds/ranianke
Summary: He felt it as an itch that started in the hindquarters of his brain; it spread until it became a need to move, to do, to be that couldn't be satisfied by saber practice or meditation.On those nights, Anakin became a hunter.——Aka: Tumblr prompt for Anakin having lots of sex in the lower levels with men who *may* or may not look anything like Obi-Wan Kenobi. So far no actual Obikin, just alleyway sex.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 203





	In the Lower Levels

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a [tumblr ask](https://obiwanobi.tumblr.com/post/620632630423126016/excuse-me-what-are-your-thoughts-on-anakin) for obiwanobi.
> 
> I may end up writing the rest of the prompt because it is really tasty, but just wanted to throw this bit out to the void while I was feeling motivated to do so. 
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr at [spookyseahorse](https://spookyseahorse.tumblr.com/)!

On nights when tomorrow held no mission, no morning saber practice; those were the nights that Anakin prowled. 

He felt it as an itch that started in the hindquarters of his brain; it spread until it became a need to move, to do, to be that couldn't be satisfied by saber practice or meditation. 

On those nights, Anakin became a hunter. 

He hunted through bars, each seedier and darker than the last, looking for prey that hunted him in turn.

He didn't ever talk about these nights. He lived in the moment; these nights were not nights for reflection or thought. Just doing, and being, until that maddening itch subsided once again. 

Tonight's prey was similar to all the others. Broad, sardonic face with crinkled lines around his eyes. A toss of hair, a scruff of beard. Broad shoulders. Black boots.

Anakin watched him for long minutes before he made his move, making sure his prey had come with no one, that his face revealed only determination and power, not softness or sentiment. There was no place for those in Anakin‘s plans. 

This one seemed particularly fitting. His hair had a coppery tinge that Anakin couldn't say precisely why he found appealing. The black nerfhide jacket slung over his shoulders spoke of the man's desire for toughness; the hard glint in his eyes spoke to layers of emotional reticence. 

Perfect.

The man glanced his way once, twice, a third time. Anakin knew the man had seen him looking. 

Anakin placed an order with the serving droid; two shots of Corellian whiskey. Anakin hated the stuff, but experience had taught him what this type of man drank in public.

He unfolded his legs and lazily sauntered over to the man's place at the bar.

"Care for a drink?"

The man leaned back, tilted his head in appraisal. His dark eyes swept up, down, lingered over his Anakin’s tight black pants and settled on his lips.

"Sure thing, sweetheart. Wouldn't mind a taste."

The man's voice rolled over his nerves like honey, sticky and dark. The tones told him Coruscanti native; the edge to it told him he'd found what he was looking for. 

The droid arrived with their drinks and the man drained his in one go. Anakin followed suit. 

"What do you say we take a walk?"

The corner of Anakin's mouth twitched upward. 

"Thought you'd never ask."

— 

In the alleyway behind the bar, Anakin’s breath came in rough pants. The man's mouth was on his neck, biting and sucking in ways that Anakin knew would leave marks. 

He should have been concerned about it, but for some reason he didn't care whether anyone at the Temple could see proof of his activities tomorrow. _Serves them right, nosy bastards._

A hand pushed up Anakin's shirt, twisted and pinned him against the grimy wall. Anakin gasped louder and writhed in pleasure. 

"Thought you'd like that," the man muttered against his skin. "Bet you like it real rough."

Anakin moaned in assent. The man shifted his other hand downward, finding the hard bulge in Anakin's pants.

"You _really_ like that, don't you sweet thing?"

All Anakin could utter was a high-pitched whine. 

"That's right. And I'm gonna give that to you.

"Please," Anakin pleaded.

"Please, _what_?" the man growled, reaching the hand on his chest upward to grab his chin, teeth grazing the shell of Anakin’s ear as he waited for his reply. 

"Please—give it to me," Anakin said pleadingly, feeling small and helpless the way he did on the best of these nights. 

"I don't think you've done quite enough for me yet, have you darling?"

Anakin sank to his knees as the man unbuckled his pants. The man's cock swung free and Anakin took it swiftly into his mouth. His hand held the base as his tongue licked and sucked and caressed.

The man let out a low groan above him. 

"You're really something aren't you, my sweet thing?"

Anakin lay his tongue flatter in response as he took the man in as far as he could go. 

"So ready to just walk into a bar and suck a stranger's cock on cue."

Anakin moaned in agreement and started to work in earnest. The man's voice got rougher as Anakin's head sped up its pace. 

"A real slut for it, huh,” he said appreciatively.

The man's hand gripped his hair tightly and kept Anakin's head in place as he thrust faster. Anakin felt saliva trickling out of his mouth, let his eyes close as he gave himself up to the feeling of being used, felt himself gagging as he opened up wider. He could pin this man against the floor in an instant, freeze him in place with a thought, or throw him to the street without breaking a sweat—but that was exactly what tonight was not about.

The man pulled away, lifted Anakin by his collar against the wall once more.

"I think you've done good for me, sweet one."

The man's hands found Anakin's pants once more, massaging along the large bulge that had only grown while Anakin had been on his knees. 

"What do you say, sweet thing? You want me to fuck you into this wall?"

Anakin gasped loudly as his arousal crashed over him.

"Yes," he whined piteously. 

"Say, yes Master," the man murmured, hand against his neck.

Those words, in this dark alleyway, delivered in a posh Coruscanti voice by a man who held him firm and tickled his cheek with his beard—

"Ye—yes, master!" Anakin choked out, barely able to breathe 

The man squeezed the hand on Anakin’s cock and Anakin saw stars. His hips bucked uncontrollably, and his eyelids squeezed shut as his head tilted back.

The man groaned in approval. 

"You're just begging for it, aren't you?"

Anakin felt the hem of his pants tugged downward around his thighs. His cock sprang out, red and hard, and was ignored as the man flipped him against the wall.

Later, as the man pushed into him hard and fast, Anakin felt something inside himself break open, a dam that could no longer hold, as he cried out, “Yes, master, yes, please, more, oh _Master_.” 

But this was not a night for reflection, or thoughts; this was a night of pure being. 

Anakin came hard as the man stroked him off, felt his world narrow to a thin point of ecstasy and release as he shuddered and gasped.

After, as he pulled back on his pants, gave the man a nod, and sauntered away into the night, he continued to not think about what he’d just experienced. He continued to not think about who precisely had just been fucking him, and who he may have thought it was as the man moaned and thrust inside him, beard scratching against his back, Coruscanti words rolling over him, strong arms holding him down.

Because this was not a night for thoughts.


End file.
